


like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass

by mechup



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternative Universe - They Have Sex, Begging, Breathplay, Choking, Fainting but like as a kink, Multi, Other, Threats, no one read this thanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-29 20:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21415837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechup/pseuds/mechup
Summary: He needs to come up with a plan to get out and save everyone but it’s already so hard to think and both of them being here is only making it worse. This is like every dream he’s ever had come true, but with the worst possible timing.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), The Master (Simm)/Missy, Twelfth Doctor/Missy, Twelfth Doctor/The Master (Simm), Twelfth Doctor/The Master (Simm)/Missy
Comments: 16
Kudos: 65





	like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jemima_Puddleduck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemima_Puddleduck/gifts).

> title from the song Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier

“How many times have you died?”

“How many different ways?”

The Doctor awakens with a gasp, eyes shooting open and hearts racing. It takes a few seconds for his gaze to focus, but he doesn’t need to see them to know the two voices are coming from his oldest friend. 

“Have you burned?”

“I know you’ve fallen.”

He tries to blame his dizziness on the way they’re circling him, like they’re two predators ready to put their prey out of its misery, and not on the fact that his brain is short circuiting simply from seeing both of them in front of him. Just their presence is more than enough to make him lightheaded. 

“Have you ever drowned?”

“Have you felt the blade?”

“I suppose what we’re really asking, my dear, is—” they’ve stopped moving which helps with the way his head had been spinning, but the pet name is enough to make him feel like his hearts are going to beat right out of his chest, “—well...”

“Any requests?”

Too much, it’s suddenly too much, way too much, the way they’re looking down at him with malicious smiles and his head begins pounding and he’s losing all feeling in his fingers and his eyes won’t stay open and it’s all too loud until finally, _ finally_, everything goes dark. 

* * *

  
The next time he wakes up, they’re across the roof in each other’s arms. It feels weird, it feels _ wrong_, and yet the Doctor still craves it. Craves their attention, their touch, their embrace. Craves them and anything they’ll give him.

“So I imagine you’re the next one along, then?” the Master is asking, standing closer to her than is safe.

“Oh, I think so,” is her reply. “I’m still a bit hazy on the whole regeneration thing, I’m afraid.”

“You mean I’m going to turn into a woman and you don’t even remember it happening?” the Master asks, clearly affronted. The Doctor would laugh if this were any other situation, or if he had enough energy to. 

“Oh! Am I a woman now?” Missy asks, voice pleased in contrast to the Master’s distaste. 

“Well, kind of, yeah,” the Master answers, and the Doctor has had _ enough _ of this. He can’t just sit here and listen to their flirting when he has to stop them and, more importantly, find Bill. 

He tries to stand up, hoping they’re too distracted with each other to notice what he’s doing, but quickly realizes he isn’t going to be able to get anywhere when he can’t get his legs working yet. 

“Hold me.”

“Kiss me.”

“Make me.”

He needs to come up with a plan to get out and save everyone but it’s already so hard to think and both of them being here is only making it worse. This is like every dream he’s ever had come true, but with the worst possible timing. 

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be with me,” the Master says, his wandering hands leaving no doubt in the meaning of that statement. The Doctor should really look away, at least close his eyes or something, but he’s completely and utterly hypnotized. 

Missy meets his gaze for a moment, as if she had felt his eyes on them, and he freezes. He’s been around other versions of himself enough times to know how confusing it can be, but he hopes there’s enough of her still left. She had been making considerable progress in the vault and he really doesn’t want that to go down the drain just because her past self has made an appearance. 

“Looks like we have an audience,” she murmurs, and the Doctor’s hearts sink as the Master looks over to see him watching them. “Did you want to join in, dear?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you two wanted to be alone,” the Doctor replies. He might have put more effort into refusing to entertain the idea of what they’d be doing if they were alone if he actually thought it’d be any different from what they’re doing now. 

They exchange a look and the Master smirks, pulling away from Missy to face him. “We’ve been debating the best way to kill you.”

“Where’s Bill?” the Doctor asks, because he knows where this is probably going and as much as he might want it, he _ can’t_.

“Well, we thought we might chuck you off the roof, but...” Missy begins, a glint in her eye that he knows well enough to be scared of. “I wasn’t sure how many regenerations you had left.”

“Yeah,” the Master says with a laugh. “We could’ve been up and down the stairs all night.”

“Could shoot you,” she suggests, “but that’s a bit vanilla.”

“But old school, nice for a change,” he defends. 

“For a change,” she agrees. 

“I said, where is Bill,” the Doctor repeats, doing his best to not betray his emotions in his expression. 

“Maybe he’d like it if we fucked him to death,” Missy says, still ignoring his question. She gives a smile, all teeth. “Not that he wouldn’t like the other ways too, but I think it would be more enjoyable for all of us.”

The Master takes a step towards the Doctor, who vaguely feels like a sheep being hunted by wolves. “That does seem like the kind of thing he’d like, that’s a very good idea. What do you think, Doctor? Should we go with that one?”

It takes him a moment to realize he’s being asked a question, but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t know how to answer it anyway. The next thing he knows, a pair of hands are on him and he has to look up to see who they’re from, both Masters the same to him despite their differences. He goes to try to push the hands away from him but finds he can’t move his own, belatedly realizing they had handcuffed him while he was knocked out. 

The hands move from his chest to his collarbones, and he isn’t aware he’s automatically tilted his head backwards in order to give them access to his throat until he hears the laugh that comes from above him. 

“So eager for us, aren’t you?” Missy asks. The Doctor squirms at her comment because despite the circumstances, despite himself, he’s still being affected by them. “You haven’t changed one bit; you’ve been so many different people since then, you’ve been to so many places and made so many friends, but deep down at your core, there’s only one thing you want—”

“Need,” the Master interrupts. “He _ needs _ it.”

Missy nods. “That’s right. The only thing the Doctor _ needs _ more than anything is to be good for his Master. He would let the whole universe burn if it meant he could be with us.”

The Doctor could tell them they’re wrong, he could insist that isn’t true, but actions speak louder than words and right now he’s letting them do this to him rather than trying to stop the Cybermen and save everyone on the ship. Besides, they know him better than anyone. They’ve been with him the longest, they know what he _ really _ longs for. 

The hands make their way to his neck and immediately tightens, not giving him any time to adjust before his oxygen starts being cut off. He tries his hardest not to let his eyes flutter shut or for the noise rising in his throat escape, but the hands are unrelentless and unforgiving and make sure he loses any control he may have thought he had. 

“He still makes those same pretty sounds,” the Master comments. The Doctor can’t help but blush at the way he’s being talked about as if he isn’t there. “And look at him, he can barely get enough of this.”

“Maybe we should kill him this way, then,” Missy says. “Choke him until he passes out, then do it again when he wakes up, and again until his body can’t take it anymore.”

The whine the Doctor makes at that is full of desperation and the Master grins. “I think he likes that idea. Always been a masochist, hasn’t he?”

“No,” the Doctor whispers, feeling like he’s already a few seconds away from falling unconscious. It would be so easy to let the darkness overtake him, he’s already mostly there, but if he does there’d be nothing to stop them from continuing until he’s forced to regenerate. He had hoped Missy was only doing this to pretend to be on the Master’s side, but now he’s not so sure. 

“Is the reason you can hardly keep your eyes open because of the lack of air?” Missy asks, giving the Doctor a knowing smirk. “Or because you’re actually enjoying this?”

“He’s definitely enjoying it.” The Master nods at the tent in the Doctor’s trousers. He and Missy exchange another glance and the Doctor immediately knows he’s screwed when Missy reaches down to undo his trousers. She takes him in hand for a moment and his shudder is _ sinful _ as he struggles (and fails) not to buck into her touch. He’s so far gone he can’t keep track of what’s happening anymore but he feels the Master begin to ease his grip on the Doctor’s throat and he collapses backwards, but doesn’t get the chance to gasp in as much air as he would like because the Master leans down and presses their lips together in a hard, bruising kiss. 

To say both of them on him is overwhelming is an understatement, and between the Master’s teeth and Missy’s rough hands, the Doctor doesn’t know who to focus on. So he lets himself fall slack, allowing them to completely direct the orchestrations and they do just that, they play him like a violin, knowing exactly which strings to pluck to get the best sounds. 

His lungs are burning by the time the Master pulls away but he arches up in search of more because he already misses it, misses the Master’s lips against his, the way he feels, the way he tastes, the way he completely owns him. He wishes he could have this forever; getting lost in the Master’s kisses is something that’s been a constant through most of his lives, but it’s been too long since he’s been with _ this _ Master.

“Please,” he says, before he’s realized he’s opened his mouth. He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for but begging the Master is like second nature to him and he needs _ some _ way to channel out his frustration. 

“Please, what?” Missy asks, her voice filled with false sweetness. “Are you that desperate for us already?”

“Please... let me touch you.” 

“We’d have to uncuff you for that,” the Master says suspiciously. 

“Not trying to escape,” the Doctor reassures them. He still doesn’t think he’d have any luck even standing up much less actually running away, but escaping isn’t on his mind at all anymore. “I just— I want— please, I need—”

He shuts up because he’s clearly not getting anywhere verbally. He just wants to be close to them, to give them what they want. Which, embarrassingly enough, is what they had said. _ The only thing the Doctor needs more than anything is to be good for his Master_. Missy glances at the Master and they seem to decide he really is telling the truth about not wanting to escape because she nods.

She moves to unlock the handcuffs and the Doctor immediately reaches out to them, like he can’t help himself. He doesn’t know which one he’s trying to get to but he holds onto the Master first, pulling him towards him and taking in his touch, something he hasn’t done in two regenerations. His own skin seems to sizzle against the Master’s, like he’s being lit on fire and there’s no way to extinguish him. It burns but he welcomes it with open arms, just as he has since he and the Master were curious and young on Gallifrey. 

“I don’t think you believe in the difference between good and evil as much as you say you do,” Missy comments. He looks at her, as if he’s been shocked, and she continues. “You always try to show your little friends how good you are, by bringing them to all these places their tiny brains can hardly fathom and saving everyone from whatever threat you ran into. But what if they could see you now, Doctor? What if they knew you’re fucking the enemy and have been since the beginning of time? How would you explain that to them, the people you’ve tried your hardest to make like you?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that, he _ can’t _ answer that, so he remains silent and looks away. Missy stands up and the Master moves his hands back towards the Doctor’s throat. 

“I think he wants more,” he says, his statement proven by the way the Doctor leans into his touch. 

“Let me do the choking,” she says, batting his hands away. “You’re not doing it hard enough. Look at him, he’s positively _ gagging _ for it. I’ll do it properly.”

The Master doesn’t look too happy about her insulting his ability but he surprisingly doesn’t say anything in response, and she gathers up her skirt to straddle the Doctor. The Master slides his fingers into the Doctor’s hair, holding tightly. He closes his eyes and leans towards him, mouthing at his erection through the Master’s trousers. The sharp intake of breath he hears from above causes him to pull away after a few seconds, replacing his lips with his hand. 

Missy rocks her hips against his, causing him to practically keen from the feeling. She trails her fingers up his chest to his neck, and it’s like second nature to the Doctor when he angles his head to allow her to do whatever she likes with him. He can’t help the whimper he makes and vaguely thinks about how completely dirty this is. They’re about to kill everyone on this ship, he’s probably going to die, and they’re all still wearing their clothes. 

He tries to meet her movements with his own but the tighter her grip gets, the more he seems to lose himself. It’s taking too much energy out of him to try to give as much as he’s getting so he stops, allowing them to take their pleasure from him. 

“Beg,” the Master orders. “Beg for us, show your Masters how much you want this.”

He tries but he can’t speak, not with Missy cutting off his air like that. He looks up at them with pleading eyes but they don’t take pity on him, Missy instead slowing down to a torturous pace. 

“You heard him, Doctor,” she says. “I won’t give you what you want unless you beg.”

He doesn’t know if the tears that form are because of the lack of oxygen or how desperate he is or both, but her threat does the trick and he manages to force out in a whisper, “Please, please, please, Mistress, Master, Master, please—”

That seems to be good enough for them because Missy cuts him off with a kiss, taking away the remaining breath he doesn’t have. It pushes him over the edge in a sudden wave and he arches up to get all the friction he can, and he collapses back down as everything goes black. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is quite possibly the most exposing thing i've ever written press f


End file.
